


I've got you under my skin

by KeepGoing



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 1950's, 1950's lingo, Both boys are afraid of their feelings, Forbidden Romance, Homosexuality isn't talked about in this decade, Ian is a prep/soc, Lip is a supportive but cautious brother, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Mickey is a hoodlum/greaser, alternative universe, different sides of the tracks, drunk!terry, unlikely friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: In 1957 Mickey Milkovich and Ian Gallagher, two teens from opposite sides of the tracks in southside Chicago, form an unlikely friendship and a secret and forbidden romance. Because boys ask girls, not other boys, to the school dance or don't hold hands under the bleachers. One boy with an abusive drunk father and the other who wants nothing more than to be able to tell everyone how he feels about the hoodlum from across the tracks, both soon find out being together isn't as easy as the love songs on the radio make it seem.





	

  
  
“Mickey Milkovich is casting an eyeball at you. Again.” 

Ian Gallagher looks up from his textbook to find his brother Phillip, Lip for short, is indeed correct. Mickey Milkovich is looking at him. He frowns and glances back at his older brother.   
“Probably tryin’ to figure out how to kill me and hide my body by the train tracks.” 

“Well, what did you do to rattle his cage?” Lip asks, shifting his books from one arm to the other. The hallway was buzzing with students in and out of classrooms, lockers being opened and slammed shut, and groups of teenagers standing around before their classes resume. Lip was a year older than Ian, but they spend a lot of their free time together in school. And out. Even though it had become less and less lately and Ian is under suspicion that Lip might be seeing a girl. 

“Nothing. The goon’s just trying to bug me or get me frosted. Ain’t gonna work though.” Ian gives Mickey another quick glance up the hall and finally throws his textbook into his locker and slams it. 

“Don’t have a cow, man.” Lip places his hand on his brother’s shoulder, giving him a small smirk. “If I wasn’t already in orbit, I’d say you actually liked that goon casting his eyes on you.” 

“Would you cut the gas, Lip?” Ian clutches his books harder against his chest and looks up and down the hallway cautiously. But no one is paying attention to him or his brother. They never do. It's not as if they were total squares, but they weren't exactly popular either. Ian liked it that way. No one bothered them. No one really asked a lot of questions about either of them and they could just disappear into a crowd and not have to worry about anything. Yeah, Ian definitely liked it like that. “If I had known you were just gonna give me a bunch of grief about it, I never would have told you nothin’.” 

“Hey, cool out, Ian. I dig it, okay? I’m your brother. You can tell me anythin’ you want. I’m sorry. I didn't mean to get you all frosted. Really.” Lip throws his arm around Ian’s shoulder and turns his attention back to Mickey Milkovich a few lockers up from them. He keeps flicking his pocket knife in and out as he stares openly at the Gallagher brothers. Mostly looking so deep into Ian’s eyes, the younger brother has to admit it does make him a bit hot under the collar. And not in a bad way. “But a little brotherly advice? You don’t always have the best illuminations, so just tread lightly with this one. Just in case I’m barking up the right tree and you actually like that south side trash lookin’ at you.” 

Ian groans, pushing his brother off him with a friendly shove. “Get bent.”

Lip laughs and winks at him as he heads toward his English class. 

Ian closes his locker and glances over his shoulder to find Mickey Milkovich gone. He sighs heavily and begins trudging up the hallway towards his own Junior English class. Truth is, he does enjoy that south side trash eyeballing him. He has for a while now. It's just that Mickey doesn't actually talk to Ian. He just looks at him. In their gym class. In the halls. In the soda shop in town. But he’s never actually spoken to the oldest Milkovich. When they eyeballing first started Ian was terrified that he had done something to get Mickey all frosted and he was just gonna give Ian the beatin’ of his life. But nothin’ ever came. No beatin’. No scaring. Nothing. Just eyeballing. Mickey never smiled at him. In fact, Mickey never showed much emotion besides anger. He didn't seem to have many friends. Ian knows Mickey has a younger sister, Mandy, cause she is in Ian’s classes but he's never spoken to her either. 

The entire Milkovich family is a bit kookie, including the father which the entire town knows is a drunk and has had a few run-ins with the fuzz. All the information, rumors that float around town, just makes Ian want to get to know Mickey even more, but he doesn't see that happening. Lip is right. Even becoming friends with Mickey isn't something that seems to be the best idea. It will just draw attention to Ian, and the less attention he has on him, the better. The less chance of anyone finding out the secret he has held inside himself since he was old enough to understand what attraction really was and what he found attractive. 

Ian, sometimes he wishes he could be like his older brother. Lip dates girls, necks with them in the backseats of cars and under the bleachers at football games and sneaks out in the middle of the night to feel girls up on the corner under the train. But Ian doesn't do any of that. He can't. 

Because Ian isn't attracted to girls. 

He's attracted to guys like Mickey Milkovich with dark hair and blue eyes and a look of pure anger on his face. The way Mickey looks at Ian drives him crazy; makes him feel things inside himself he never thought he would be able to feel about another person. A feeling he has kept deep inside himself for years now. His family thinks he is just too concerned with his studies and getting into college to even think about girls or the school dance. It's safer that way. He’s never corrected them or got heated when they made fun when there was a game or a dance and Ian was yet again home without a date. No one in school bothered him about his lack of dating, and no girl has ever asked him on a date so that also made his life a lot easier. Because he’d rather be alone then have to live a lie with a girl he could care less about. 

But Mickey, somehow, gives him hope. That maybe there is someone else out there like him. He knows there has to be. Somewhere in this big world, there has to be someone else out there like him. But he never thought he’d find one in this town. But Mickey….

Ian shakes his head out of his thoughts as he takes his seat in the front of the class in English class. He has to be kookie himself. There is no way a guy like Mickey Milkovich could be…

Ian sighs heavily and opens his English book.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Sometimes Mickey wanted to give himself a knuckle sandwich. He was kinda known for doing it to other people. He knows what people say about him. That he’s southside trash. Son of the town drunk. Someone with no future. He knows all the rumors. He isn't deaf. He just chooses to ignore them because he has Mandy to think of and as long as she is still in school and in this town he’s going to do everything he can to keep her safe and keep himself out of an unreasonable amount of trouble to make sure he can keep her safe.

It's not like his Pops ever thinks about either of them. Thinks about what’s best for his kids. No, all he worries about is where he’s getting his next bottle of sauce and how he’s going to make money. Because he doesn't have a job, that’s for sure. Mickey knows his pops uses other ways to bring money into the house, but half the time it's left up to him to feed himself and Mandy and that means stealing. He doesn't want to do it; Linda, the woman who owns the store up the street from his house is really nice, and half the time Mickey thinks she knows he is stealing but never says anything. Because she knows. Everyone knows where Mickey comes from. And who is father is. 

So Mickey has enough to get all bent out of shape about. He doesn't need his own emotions and wants to get in the way of what is important. And that's keeping himself and Mandy safe. But sometimes…

Sometimes he can't help but stare at Ian Gallagher. The red hair, green eyes...freckles. And tall...Ian Gallagher is really tall. And Mickey likes it. 

And it's just one more thing that makes Mickey different from everyone else around him. Something he wouldn't dare ever tell anyone. Because...the thoughts...the feeling he has, normal people don't have. Normal guys his age are making it with girls. Taking them to dances and coping a feel on the dance floor. But not Mickey. Not only because of where he comes from and the girls don't look at him and if they did it's just because they want to make their father angry and think if they neck with Mickey under the bleachers and their daddy's find out maybe they will buy them a new car if they agree to never see Mickey again. Mickey knows all about those kind of girls. 

There are guys like that too. Too many guys who have done that with his sister and Mickey has to use his fists to make his point that you don't mess with the Milkovich’s. 

But no, Mickey isn't interested in those kinds of girls. He isn't interested in girls at all. 

But red hair and green eyes and freckles….

Yeah, that's something he could think about getting under. 

But Ian Gallagher isn't the kind of guy that would even be his friend. Ian is smart, too smart, and has a future. He knows he wants to go off to college, possibly even join the military, which Mickey doesn't understand because if he just waits long enough he will be drafted anyways. Mickey sometimes hopes he gets drafted. But then no one would be here to protect Mandy because Mickey would rather have his pops hit him than his sister. 

So even trying to get Ian to be his friend was a lost cause. So he just stares. Because it's better than not looking at all. Because Ian stares back and sometimes, for just a second, Mickey thinks maybe Ian is thinking what he is thinking. But then he looks away, a look of shame on his face, and Mickey has to realize that even if Ian did feel what he felt, he could never put Ian through that. No matter how much Mickey wants. Ian needs to get out of here. He has a chance. Mickey doesn't. And even though he barely knows Ian Gallagher, and no matter how much people think Mickey Milkovich is just some piece of south side trash, he cares. And he would never want anyone else to have the life he has. 

Mickey has a routine. The school bell rings and he makes his way under the train in the lot of the old abandoned steel building and he smokes his cigarettes and carves things with his pocket knife into anything he can until the sun goes down and he knows he has to go home. Because otherwise the fuzz comes around and kicks him out anyways. Its his place. No one bothers him here, except for Mandy when she comes looking for him when his {ops had gone missing again or is just so drunk out of his mind that she too needs to get away. This is his safe place. This is his place where he can be himself. He can smoke and think about Ian all he wants and no one can do anything to him. 

Until today. When his safe haven is invaded. 

By Ian Gallagher.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Ian didn't mean to walk into Mickey’s territory. He just didn't want to go home quite yet after school and he figured he would take a detour down by the old industrial buildings. He knows they have been shut down now for quite some time so he knows no one will bother him so he can have some time alone with his thoughts.

Mostly thoughts about Mickey. He finds it crazy that he doesn't know Mickey from spit, but he invades his mind almost every hour of every day. Ian wishes he could figure out what it is about Mickey that he likes so much that would cause him to not be able to get his mind off of him, but it's hard to figure out. Maybe it's the mystery that surrounds the Milkovich family. Or maybe it's the sadness he sees in Mickey’s eyes. Ian can see past the anger and the violence. Ian can see something else below the surface of Mickey. Ian fantasizes about what Mickey’s voice sounds like when it's a low whisper in the dark. Ian wonders how soft or rough Mickey’s hands really are. 

Ian feels ashamed. He shouldn't be thinking these things about a boy. He should be thinking them about a girl. Any girl. But none of them look like Mickey Milkovich. None of them walk like him or breathe like him or punch in people's faces like him. It seems so kookie, but even though Ian has never even had a conversation with Mickey, he feels like he knows him. 

And that's dangerous. 

So when Ian walks into the lot where the old steel factory used to be and sees the black jacket and the puffs of smoke filling the air, he knew who it was. And his entire body was set on fire. 

He steps on an old broken bottle, causing the crack to echo through the emptiness of the place, and Mickey turns quickly, cigarette closed angrily between his lips and he narrows his eyes at Ian. 

“What are you doing? You lost?” Mickey yells, hopping down off one of the broken walls of the building. 

“Uh, no. I...was just taking a walk. Didn't know anyone came here.” Ian answers, stuttering over his words as Mickey’s blue eyes burn into him. 

“Well, I do. Now beat it.” Mickey inhales on his cigarette again and turns back to the wall, carving something into the concrete with his switchblade. 

Ian doesn't move, though. He can't. He has to say SOMETHING. Mickey’s been staring at him for months now. It has to mean something...it has to…

“You need somethin’?” Mickey yells not looking at Ian. He just continues to carve, smoke barreling from his nose and mouth. 

“I….can't I just...hang here? I mean I really don't want to go home right now and no one else is here….” 

“I’m here.” Mickey cuts off. “And this is my spot. Now unless you're cruising for a bruisin.’-”

“No! I just…” Ian sighs. “Fine. Sorry, I bothered you.” It was all in his head. Mickey was just a major jerk and anything he thought he had felt from the other boy was just all in his head. He turns, kicking up dirt as he walks. 

“Hey! No...Jeez.” Mickey turns and calls after the younger man. “It's cool if you wanna...hang. Just don't bother me, okay?”

Ian turns, Mickey’s eyes soft for just a mere moment. “Okay. Thanks.”

Mickey turns back to the wall and Ian takes his jacket off and lays it on a nearby wall as he settles on it, taking out his English homework as the afternoon sun beats down on him. It's warm, warmer than normal, but he welcomes it. It's been a long time since he’s been able to just sit in silence. He lives in a house with 5 other siblings and his mom and Dad and it's never quiet. He shares a room with his two brothers, Lip and Carl, and it takes a long time for him to do his homework every night because the house is just so loud. So Ian is really enjoying the silence right now. 

“You wanna beer?” 

Ian looks up from his homework to find Mickey standing only a few feet from him holding out a can. 

“Uhh...I…”

“Never had a beer before?” Mickey asks, with a smirk. 

Ian shakes his head, his cheeks heating up. 

Mickey laughs and steps toward him further, handing him the can. “Come on. I’ll make sure you’re not pickled when you go home.” Ian hesitates again and Ian shoves it at him, slowly. “Come on.”

Ian takes the beer and sets his textbook down on the wall and cracks open the can. He takes a small sip, never taking his eyes off Mickey’s. He makes a disgusted face at the taste and Mickey laughs. 

“It takes a little gettin’ used to. But you will. Gallagher. Irish right? Drinkin’s in your blood.”

“Mmm.” Ian mumbles taking another sip. The taste is awful, but Mickey is paying attention to him and it's worth the gross. 

“You come here every day?” Ian asks, jumping down from the wall. Mickey takes a step back, as if startled. Like an old ally cat. 

“Uh, yeah. Better than being home.” Mickey says softly as he goes back to his own wall. 

“Yeah,I know. I mean I don't know, but I heard.” Ian closes his eyes sighing heavily. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry’s crap, Gallagher. You take what life gives you. Nothin’ anyone can do.” Mickey finishes off his own beer, crushing the can and throwing it into the dirt. Ian smiles. 

“Why do you look at me all the time?” Ian spits out but instantly regrets it after Mickey turns, anger blazing in his eyes. Ian swallows hard, but when Mickey’s eyes suddenly soften, Ian begins to breathe again. 

“Not sure.” Mickey kicks the dirt with the tip of his boot. “Guess I just find you more interesting than anyone else at school.” 

“Me? Interesting?” Ian scoffs. “Right. I’m a square.” 

“Nah, just smart. And that's cool. You're lucky.”

“I bet you're smart too,” Ian says gently. Mickey looks at him with an unreadable expression. 

“You don't know anything about me.” 

“I’m trying to.” Ian smiles and when Mickey smirks at him, he feels his chest swell and get heavy in his body. This is it. This is the feeling he’s been waiting for. 

“I don't have friends,” Mickey warns, taking out another can of beer from his knapsack. 

“Maybe I could be your friend.” Ian offers and Mickey’s eyes widen. 

“Why you got someone you want me to pound into the ground for you?” Mickey asks, taking a large gulp of his beer. 

“No. Just...wanna hang out with you,” Ian answers honestly and Mickey eyes him suspiciously. 

“It's your funeral.” Mickey finally answers, rolling his eyes. 

“Why you gonna kill me and bury me here where no one but you can find my body?” Ian jokes and finishes his beer. He lets out a small burp and Mickey’s eyes darken. 

“I can find a lot of other things I’d rather do with your body, Gallagher.”  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Mickey knows he should stop it. He should end whatever the hell it is he and Gallagher are doing, even if it is just hanging out every afternoon until it gets dark. Ian had mentioned that his family is starting to question where he is every day, and for a moment Mickey is envious because no one ever wonders where Mickey is. Mickey tells Ian he ain’t worth gettin’ in trouble for but Ian assures him he has it covered. Now Mickey is making Ian lie, good old Ian Gallagher. The square. The smart one. He doesn't lie. And now he is to hang out with Mickey.

And Mickey wants to tell him it needs to stop. That he doesn't want to bring Ian down with him to wherever it is Ian wants to go. But he can't. Because with every passing afternoon he and Ian spend together, the more he realizes how much he likes this kid. 

He makes awful jokes and his laugh is totally crazy and obnoxious. He has hopes and dreams and he talks about his family with such affection and happiness. He confides in Mickey about his mom being sick. Some kind of brain crazy that makes her do some crazy crap and then makes her sleep for weeks on end. It's tough on Ian, Mickey can tell, but he still talks about his mother like she's the most important person in the world to him. 

Mickey doesn't really talk like that about anyone. Not even his sister. Because truth is, as much as he would lay his life on the road for his sister, they aren't really close. Mickey’s never really been close with anyone, and as he feels himself growing more and more fond of the redheaded Gallagher, the more and more his instinct to punch Ian’s lights out and run away as fast as he can, kicks in. 

But Mickey keeps going back, day after day, and every day Ian is there waiting. 

And Mickey just doesn't understand why. 

“Why you wanna be my friend so badly?” Mickey asks one afternoon. They are drinking beers again; well Mickey’s drinking, Ian is sipping the same beer he’s had all afternoon, and Ian is using Mickey’s pocket knife to carve something into an old block of wood they found in the yard. 

“We’re already friends, Mickey.” 

Mickey frowns because he’s right and it burns him. “Fine, well why are you?” 

Ian stops carving and looks up into Mickey’s prying eyes. “Because I like you.” 

Mickey gapes at him and Ian just goes back to his block of wood. 

When Ian finally goes home that night, Mickey looks down at the carving Ian has left behind. 

**I.G + M.M**

Mickey brings it home with him and hides it in his closet.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
“I know what you’ve been hiding.” Lip says one night to Ian in the darkness of their bedroom. It's way past when they normally should be sound asleep, but for some reason, Ian can’t seem to turn his mind off. Mostly because now a days all he thinks about is Mickey. Mickey’s eyes. Mickey’s mouth. His lips and smiles Ian gets every once in a while. He thinks of Mickey’s life and how he deserves so much better than he has. He wishes there was more he could do for him. Save him in some way. He almost slipped up this afternoon, telling Mickey how he wants him to run away with him. To anywhere. Where Mickey could get away from his father, and Ian could live a life on his own terms. To be who he really is and not have to hide.

But Ian never muttered the words. He knows better. He knows that what he feels for Mickey is a moot point. Mickey isn’t like him, no matter how many times Ian over analyzes things Mickey says to him. Or how his stare lingers sometimes. No, Mickey Milkovich could never feel about him the way Ian wants him to. 

“Get bent,” Ian mumbles. 

“Listen, I’m not judging. I knew you...I figured you had a thing going on. But Mom and Dad and Fionna are starting to talk. You better come up with some kind of story before they start poking their noses where they don’t belong. I’m just lookin’ out for you, Ian.” Lip’s voice trails off at the end and Ian sighs gently as he rolls over to face his wall in his bed. He never answers lip. He never even acknowledges that Lip said anything. The less he says, the better. 

He knows he’s diggin’ himself deeper and deeper with every afternoon he spends with Mickey. But he doesn’t care. Mickey is like an addiction. A puzzle. And with every level and every piece of the wall that Ian breaks through, the more he falls for him. 

It’s dangerous territory. 

But Ian couldn’t care less.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Ian falls asleep one afternoon. Mickey is carving something into an old branch and Mickey could have sworn Ian was reading next to him but instead he feels Ian’s head fall gently against his shoulder and when Mickey turns his head slowly to look at the redhead, he realizes he’s fallen asleep. The way the late afternoon sun is peaking through the buildings and hitting Ian’s pale skin just makes Mickey realize, for the first time, how beautiful a boy can be. Because Ian Gallagher is beautiful. Mickey’s hand reaches out, shakily, his fingers itching to trace the freckles across Ian’s nose, but he pulls back, as if he’s just touched a hot stove, and decides instead to push Ian off him.

“Wake up, Gallagher. You’re droolin’ all over me.”

Ian blinks sleepily and gives him a small out of it smile. “Sorry. Was up late studyin.”

“Course ya were.” Mickey shakes his head. “Good. You need to get outta this town. Run as far away as you can.”

“You could come with me.”

Mickey’s eyes widen slightly and after a few moments of just STARING at Ian, he just rubs his hand against his chin and goes back to his carving. 

“Yeah, maybe.”  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
It takes Ian 3 months before he has the nerve to ask.

“You ever kiss anyone?” 

Mickey chokes on his large gulp of beer and it dribbles down his chin and he wipes it away with the back of his hand but Ian can honestly not help but stare. 

“What are you going on about?” Mickey asks, kicking his legs out and dirt rising up around his feet. He and Ian are sitting against the wall in the lot just like every other afternoon but this time it's Saturday and Ian had to make up some lie about helping set up for the dance that night at school. His older sister and mother looked so...relieved when he had told them but Lip just eyed him with suspicion and gave him the thumbs-up sign as he left the house. 

“Just wonderin.”

Mickey sighs and rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. 

“Never found anyone worth kissin’ I guess.” Mickey finally answers, finishing his beer. 

“Me either.” 

Mickey laughs, chucking his can, hitting the far wall. 

“Oh? That a fact?”

“Yeah...well, there is this one….” Ian trails off and closes his eyes at how stupid he is that he almost said 'guy'.

“Guy?”

Ian’s eyes fly open and he almost gets whiplash at how fast he turns to look at Mickey. Mickey is just staring straight ahead, perfectly still. 

“I...you...how…” Ian can't find the words. There are no words right now. 

“It's cool. I won't rat on you. Just wondered why you never said nothin.” Mickey says softly. 

“Not somethin’ you can really talk about. Not in this town. Not at our school. Just figured it was easier to keep my trap shut and just wait till I got to college or….maybe I could just ignore it and get married to some girl and have her push out some kids like everyone else.” The words spill from Ian’s mouth before he can stop them. He’s never said any of this out loud before and he honestly cannot believe he just told Mickey Milkovich, the guy he likes, any of these thoughts. 

“You ain’t like everyone else, Gallagher.” 

Ian can't help but smile he also can't help but reach his hand out every so slowly and turn Mickey’s face towards him. His fingers brush under his chin and across his cheek and when Mickey’s face is finally just centimeters from Ian’s the first thing Mickey’s too blue eyes finds is Ian’s lips. 

Ian isn't sure if he moved first, or if it was Mickey. It really doesn't matter because when their lips touch Ian can literally feel electricity course through his body. He’s heard of people being struck by lightning and he wonders if this is what it feels like. Because his heart begins to pound, and the hair on the back of his neck and on his arms stands up and he can feel his toes curl in his sneakers.

Mickey’s mouth is warm and his lips are so soft and his bottom lip is already swollen by genetics and Ian pulls his mouth off for only a moment to open his mouth a little more and dives right back into Mickey’s waiting lips. The tip of their tongues meet and Mickey’s breath hitches and Ian can't help but let out a small whine from his throat. His fingertips caress Mickey’s soft skin on his cheek and as the kiss deepens, Ian feels Mickey’s fingers dig into the back of his neck where his hairline meets it. 

The kiss lasts for so long, Ian lips and neck actually hurt when he finally needs to pull back to crack his neck and fingers that have been wrapped around Mickey’s face. Ian searches Mickey’s face for any sort of reaction, emotion, but Mickey is just staring at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Ian swallows down a million things he wants to say but finally decides he will let Mickey be the first one to talk. 

When Mickey just turns his head away from Ian’s stare and sits rigid for what seems like an eternity. Ian can't help but just stare at him as Mickey sits, stone cold, next to him. Ian wants to say something, anything, but he doesn't. He promised himself he would let Mickey make the next move. 

Mickey finally stands, dusting off his ass from the dirt and he grabs his knapsack off the ground next to him. Ian stands quickly and feels his chest begin to tighten and his ability to breathe slowly diminishing as he watches Mickey begin to walk away. 

“Mick...I…” Ian begins but stops when Mickey stops walking and slowly turns to look at him. Maybe Mickey had just been waiting for Ian to say something. Maybe he was feeling as confused but happy as Ian is feeling right now. Maybe this was the beginning of something amazing. Maybe this was everything Ian had been waiting for, wanting, for so long. 

Maybe he couldn't have been more wrong. About all of it. 

Because all Mickey does when he walks back to Ian, is punch him square in the face.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for nanowrimo this year. I will be updating every week, maybe even twice a week. Comments are LOVE. I've had this idea for a while now and just NEEDED to write it. 
> 
> <3


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